Reality's Veil

by Damon Alan

  “He died serving the people he loved,” Alarin said. “And he died with his friends around him, as a great man.”

  “He was my husband, my friend, and you think I am comforted to know how he died? It only matters that he did.”

  “Can we sit?” Alarin asked. He looked even more pale than normal, if that was possible. “You’re hiding your emotions well, but I… I am being torn apart by what your soul is not hiding.”

  Halani picked up a vase from a shelf near the door and hurled it across the room. “Why?” she screamed. She put her face in her hands and sobbed.

  Sarah flushed with the shame of failure. Her failure.

  “Why?” Halani whimpered.

  Sarah took the young woman into her arms. The powersuit Sarah was required to wear made for an uncomfortable embrace, but they managed it. She held the broken woman wordlessly, while Alarin walked to the couch and sat down.

  How do I tell her that it was my orders that put Navin in the line of fire? Sarah asked. If I hadn’t insisted we recover the adept bodies…

  You don’t tell her anything of the kind. She already knows that everything flows back to you. Everyone follows you, and the reality is you’re holding life and death in your hands for all of your people. I’m sorry, Sarah, but this time the dice came up death.

  Alarin sat quietly a moment before he spoke to the grieving woman. “Halani, I’m not a priest, but I can get one for you if you like.” He adjusted himself awkwardly on the couch. His discomfort was tangible. “What I know that I can share with you is the religion of my people, I’ve followed it since I was born. I have things I know to be fact that will help you now, if you will listen.”

  Halani stepped out of Sarah’s embrace. “Thank you, Admiral.” She walked into the sitting area of her quarters. “Please, have a seat,” she said, gesturing toward a chair. “I’ll make tea.”

  “No. I’ll make tea,” Sarah replied. “You sit with Alarin. Navin changed who we are, one of his crazy prayers at a time. It’s probably best you listen to someone who knows something about such matters.”

  Halani sat down on the opposite end of the couch from the Master Adept. He looked at her, the pain of her suffering now etched on both of their faces.

  Alarin was taking some of her grief on himself to give Halani a chance to breathe.

  Sarah stepped into the kitchenette to make tea, still able to hear the conversation in the other room.

  “We are part of something bigger,” Alarin started. “I have felt that, through the essence of the gift, since I was a boy and first able to think for myself.”

  Halani said nothing to Alarin, as Sarah put a kettle on the induction stove. She turned on the heat and walked to the edge of the living area.

  “It feels like you are alone, but he is still here. He is now integrated into something bigger than our reality, something lost to those of us confined within our bodies. Despite his new state of existence, he is still the man you knew. Each of us are given a small gift from the greater when we’re born, and that is what many of your religions refer to as a soul.”

  “You believe that?” Halani said. “That we’re some sort of fragment of a whole?”

  “I believe that the spark that is us, our core being, if you will, it is exactly that. A gift from that which is greater than ourselves. Peter and I have had this conversation many times. He speaks of quantum entanglement, and I think Dr. Jannis feels as he does,” Alarin added. “So maybe I’m not entirely correct. But nobody is denying the fundamentally important part.”

  “Which is?”

  “You will see Navin again,” Alarin said with confidence.

  Halani looked doubtful, but Alarin wasn’t about to let her think Navin was dead as death was understood by both Halani and Sarah just a few years ago.

  “Whatever the physical nature of our reality, we are given individuality, we are given insight, free will, and the ability to interact with the universe that birthed our consciousness. And I believe, as does every other adept on this world, that we preserve that identity in death.”

  “You’re saying he’s not gone,” she interjected. “But he’s gone from me.”

  “Think of how long the universe will exist,” Alarin said. He slid closer to her on the couch and clasped her hands. “You are almost as an embryo when you’re alive. Then you have the rest of the life of the universe we live in to be with him once again, because you will have your identity and he will have his, all the while being part of the greater whole.”

  “It sounds a lot like what he believed,” Halani admitted. “He’d been trying to teach me about Bunduism, but it sounded too… speculative for me to embrace.”

  “Of all you newcomers, he was the most right,” Alarin said, squeezing her hand. “You married wisely, even if the wisdom was accidental.”

  Halani laughed. Maybe that was her first moment of healing. “For a short time, I learned a lot of how he saw the world.” She blew her nose into a tissue and wiped tears from her face.

  “With a tiny break, he can share again. Forever, if that is what you both want. Or you can be on separate ends of existence.”

  “No. He was my best friend.”

  Sarah wiped her face as well. She was never going to be good at this part of her job.

  Halani was remarkable, and so was Alarin. She still, honestly, didn’t know how much of anything he said was true, but Sarah sensed that at this moment, Halani had a need to believe.

  And the young widow would almost certainly believe, at least for a while. The thought that our loved ones continue is the greatest draw of religion. And an unproven tale.

  The kettle whistled behind Sarah, and she turned to pour the tea.

  Halani raised her voice and called to her from the other room.

  “I have something for you, Admiral. He’d want you to have this now,” Halani said as she stood up and grabbed an object from a shelf. “He wanted you, every day of his service, to understand why he thought the way he did. Your respect was important.”

  It was a package, bound in string and thin paper. “For Captain Sarah Dayson” was marked on the outside.

  She untied the string and carefully unfolded the paper. Inside the fragile wrapping were four books.

  “What language is this?”

  “A language long dead, but he had a translator AI. I don’t think he needed it, but he was ready in case anyone else did.”

  “These are the books of Bunduism, aren’t they?” Sarah asked. She felt almost guilty holding them, the beliefs of a man she’d led into death.

  “Yes, and here is a copy of the AI,” Halani confirmed, slipping a data crystal into Sarah’s hand. “Any standard holographic reader will decode it.”

  “I’ll read them,” Sarah promised.

  “He’d be happy,” Halani answered. “I guess if Alarin is right, he is happy.”

  “You’re an amazing woman,” Sarah said, almost in tears again. “You’ve lost so much and you’re giving me gifts.”

  “I’ve only lost a few years, according to the adepts,” Halani said. She paused and looked contemplative and shaken at the same time. “I don’t know, Admiral, but I’ve lost what matters most. I think I’m going to look deeper into the priests Alarin speaks of. I could really use some hope right now and I’d like some time off to find it.”

  A religious exploration was not what Sarah expected as Halani’s response to the tragic loss of Navin. But that didn’t matter. What mattered was what Halani wanted, not what Sarah expected her behavior to be.

  “Of course. Take the time you need. I expect to hear of your discoveries.”

  “And you will.”

  The topic dropped, turning to happier things, although it felt forced. They drank tea and spoke of what they’d do after the Hive were gone. Sarah rested her books on the table next to her teacup. She found her fingers repeatedly drawn to the covers and wondered how old the texts were.

  Harmeen had treasured them, and he’d wanted her to have them
. The least she could do would be to read them, or let Lucy read them to her when Sarah was in her quarters.

  She slipped the data crystal into her pocket.

  Chapter 6 - Return to the Fight

  03 Ors 15332

  Sarah sat in the mayor’s office, looking at the wine bottles on Thea’s counter. The allure of drinking her worries away tugged at her psyche. Maybe she was never strong enough to face all that she faced, maybe it was the alcohol that boosted her mentally.

  She sighed deeply as Thea continued her comments about Halani Seto.

  “Am I boring you?” Thea asked. “I was talking about Halani and you zoned out.”

  “I’m just worried about her,” Sarah responded. “She’s taking time away from the fleet, and by your new rules of citizenship, she has every right to do so. She’s done her military time.”

  “Yes she does have the right. I’ve informed Halani that if she needs to see me, the door is open on a moment’s notice,” Thea responded. “Instead she’s departing in the morning for Antecar. She has an offer to stay in Edolhirr’s palace and study the local religion.”

  “You know what’s remarkable to me?” Sarah asked. “That over ten thousand years this moon didn’t fracture religiously as so many planets do when they have a spiritual society. Nobody came along to lead a sect astray, and nobody really challenged the status quo of the adepts and priests.”

  “Merik did.”

  Sarah rolled her eyes. “She was insane.”

  “And who among us, yourself included, isn’t?” Thea asked in response. “You blow up stars, I lead a city on the edge of the intergalactic abyss, and the list goes on. Peter and Eris are haunted knowing that each day here might be their last.” She paused for a moment, Sarah could tell she was thinking about how to continue. “Do you know that Peter took one of the shuttles from the Entalia and he is living on it with Eris at the spaceport?”

  “I did not know that.”

  “They come to work together every day by ground car, they spend every moment within five meters of the other. Both of them are carrying cases I expect is their medical data and an encyclopedia of all the knowledge they think they’ll need in the past.”

  “Paranoid?” Sarah asked.

  “No more than you are,” Thea replied. “It might be that they’re being pragmatic. We do know they’re going back in time in a shuttle, and the shuttle they picked is more of a yacht, really.”

  Sarah shook her head but laughed. “Well good for them. I want them to be as comfortable as they can be while they’re still here. They have a heavy burden to carry, and I doubt life will be easy for them after they leave.”

  “Probably not,” Thea agreed, then changed the subject. “So let’s talk about your plans.”

  “My plans are simple, although unexpected.” Sarah cleared her throat. “I’m going to kill Urdoxander Komi, explain to Bannick Komi that he’s my ally whether he likes it or not, and if he tries anything I don’t like, I’ll kill him as well.”

  “Sarah Dayson, I swear, you are an idiot,” Thea Jannis said, laughing disbelievingly at her friend. “You honestly believe you can trust this Bannick fellow?”

  Sarah closed her eyes and lowered her head for a moment. Thea had been kind enough to send a ground car to the spaceport for her, allowing her to avoid being seen in her power suit. It wasn’t that it was bulky, it was remarkably small in fact. But it was still obvious she was wearing one. They were friends, even if Thea was obnoxious at times. “I can,” she said. “He knows of our ability to destroy star systems.”

  “Then he plots behind your back until your guard is down.”

  Thea always had a counterpoint, or a negative scenario that might unfold. And it was always Sarah’s mission to override those barriers with logic or force of will. Sometimes it was hard to remember their friendly rivalry wasn’t always the goal, sometimes the goal was the mission. In this case, that’s exactly what it was. With that in mind, Sarah swallowed the retort that first popped into her head and logically tore down her friend’s objection. “It doesn’t matter if he’s honest or not. We have an opportunity here that may get more ships for our defense fleets without any more casualties to ourselves. I thought we were practically untouchable. The recent casualties on the Stennis proved otherwise. The Komi have technologies that make them dangerous.”

  “And how will you crew these ships?” Thea asked. “I can’t find enough skilled workers on the surface, and Heinrich is constantly complaining about not having enough trained military personnel. Even with Kuo’s compulsory service idea, we’re trying to run a civilization with barely enough people to run a city.”

  “We can get crews from the other worlds that were in the Alliance. Singar. Darasstin-Barre. I have no doubt that former Alliance military personnel will jump at the opportunity we offer. It will quickly bolster our defenses here in Oasis and help us fight off any Hive probes or attacks. I can find engineers, construction personnel, doctors, nurses, whatever it is you need if you give me a list.”

  “You can do that if Bannick is honest. If not, then it will simply help him secure power and make your risks in the future even greater,” Thea countered. “Did you not learn anything about these people when the crew on the Stennis lost their lives?”

  Stay calm, Salphan told her. She’s baiting you.

  He was continually driving home how useful he could be. Even now, from the beach, where Sarah would also like to be. There was no way Thea could conceive of him counseling Sarah from a kilometer away. Did Thea even know they were a couple?

  She does not, Salphan said.

  She took a second, smiled, and then answered. “I’ve learned all I need to know about Urdoxander. The millions he just killed, and all who came before them are a burden on my conscience for the rest of my life,” Sarah replied calmly. “The people we lost on the Stennis died knowing the cause they were fighting for. No one was there against their will, unlike the Komi Navy. I will seize any opportunity to bring more people into freedom, and to protect that freedom with power.”

  Thea stared for a moment. Clearly, she expected yelling by this point. She’d stabbed Sarah right in her most sensitive spot. Crew losses. But Sarah wasn’t going to lose this argument that way.

  Thank you, she thought to Salphan.

  “You sure you’re not concerned with the image of mighty Sarah Dayson? The leader of the free fleets of humanity? The savior of humankind?”

  “That’s not going to work either, Thea, I know what you’re doing,” Sarah replied. “You try to throw me off balance emotionally when we debate something we don’t agree about, so you can get me angry and push your own plans. I’m not falling for it.”

  “I’m surprised. After the reports of your emotional break after the sterilization of Mindari, I was actually wondering if you needed relieved of your command.”

  “And—” Sarah started to bark at Thea.

  CALM! Salphan blasted into her mind.

  Salphan’s single word assault felt like he punched her straight in the cerebral cortex. The stunning impact of that halted her reply dead cold. For a moment she could barely think.

  “Are you okay?” Thea asked.

  “Fine,” Sarah replied. She caught her breath and collected her thoughts before continuing.

  “You think of relieving me of command? Who would replace me? Heinrich is your only choice, and I doubt she’d step up knowing that you deposed me. Nor would Kuo. You’d probably have a mutiny on your hands, to be honest. The fact is, Thea, that I didn’t have to allow a civilian government on Refuge. I could have insisted that the military lead until this crisis is resolved. If I had, you’d be taking orders from me, doctor, and not sitting here trying to play with my emotions like some insane psychotherapist. You’d be on the Stennis figuring out how to save more of those radiation burned souls. Frankly I’m wondering if that wouldn’t be a better place for your talents.”

  I said calm, not calm cruelty.

  She couldn’t help but s
mirk a little. Sometimes Thea needed smacked hard.

  Mouth slightly ajar, the doctor-turned-Mayor fell silent.

  “You’re right,” she finally said. “You’re right way too often. You were right about the missile platforms in New Korvand when Orson attacked. You were right about going back to the galaxy to get more defenses. You’re right about obliterating the Hive systems, although that is the ugliest solution I’ve ever seen. You’re probably right about this Komi thing too. But it’s my job to speak against the dangers. Oasis is one small speck of hope in a dark universe. Strange things are happening… time travel, what still seems like magical powers from the adepts, the strange resurgence in religious thinking in our community… it’s all changing too fast.”

  “None of that is my concern except bringing harm to the Hive and augmenting our fleet here,” Sarah said. “The rest is your purview, and I will not interfere. I’m not advocating a coup with what I said, I’m suggesting you do your job and trust me to do mine. As for the religious stuff, I’m feeling some of that myself. I can’t help it. I’m seeing too much that can’t be explained.”

  “You?” Thea gasped, incredulous.

  “Me. I’m starting to feel the idea that the universe is sentient is actually true.”

  “Feel?”

  “Yes, Thea. Feel. It’s not rational, but a lot of people I trust believe it, and to them it is rational. Some of them sense it, which I will never be able to do, but I trust them to tell me the truth of it.”

  I could help you sense it, Salphan interjected.

  Get out of my brain!

  Thea looked truly shocked for the first time in their conversation. “You think you have some higher power behind you on your missions to the Komi and the Hive?”

  The Mayor’s tone held a slight edge of mocking her. Sarah felt her fuse shortening once again.

  “I don’t think that at all,” she responded. “I just do what I think is right. Something you could probably get a grip on, since you admit that I’m right so often.”